Why Ginevra Can't Stand Her First Name
by Fawkes's Tears
Summary: Ginny Weasley and her mother come to an agreement...or so she thought. Her mother breaks her end, and maybe ruins their whole relationship forever.Includes spanking of teenagers, just in case you'll get angry if you're surprised by that while reading it
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own these characters, but I do own the plotline. **

"Ginny! When I say get over here, I mean get over here!"

"I'm not a child anymore, Mum; it's not a reasonable punishment." Ginny said simply, no fear anywhere in her features, just anger. "I'm practically fifteen years old."

"Ron was in this kind of trouble just a day ago. He didn't argue."

"I'm not Ron!" Ginny yelled, now losing whatever left of her temper she had. "I'm not Fred or George or Percy or Charlie or Bill! I'm Ginny! And I obviously feel different about this than your sons." She shook her head. "You can't do this."

"Ginny, you were very rude, you have to be punished!"

"Mum, you have no idea how it feels to be spanked. It doesn't even teach a lesson. How many times have you spanked Fred and George and they go right back to normal?"

"I have no idea? Ginny, when I was a girl your grandmother spanked me once a day. Look how I turned out."

"Oh, yeah, because you're the model of a perfect person." Ginny said, very sarcastically. "You're great financially, you're a phenomenal mother-"

"I am I good mother!"

"Then where's Percy?" Ginny roared. Mrs. Weasley started to cry. "Maybe you're not the person you thought you were. How many times did you spank Percy?"

"He never needed it, Ginny." She was crying hard, now.

"Oh, yeah, a model son, he was." She rolled her eyes.

"_He_ got good grades. _He _was never in trouble with his teachers. _He _never broke into the Ministry of Magic!"

"That was for good reasons and you know it!" Ginny yelled.

"You could have gotten yourself killed."

"I was never in any danger." Ginny shook her head and started to walk away.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, you come here right now. We are not done talking yet."

"We are so done talking." Ginny yelled back, walking upstairs. Once out of view, she silently rushed up the stairs and to her bedroom, locking the door and pushing her dresser against it. She jumped on her bed and stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

The last time she had talked like that to her mother was…never. She always listened to her mother, always accepted her punishments with no argument. It had been close to three years since she let her mother get to her full name. Everyone once in a while, she would let her go to 'Ginny Weasley', and that would scare her over, and on very rare occasions, there was 'Ginevra Weasley', but after that she basically leaped onto her mother's lap. Letting her get to 'Ginevra Molly Weasley' was like picking the spell to be killed with. Last time she let her get that far, she hadn't sat down for three weeks without wincing.

The knock made her heart drop. She gulped. "What?" Perfect, she thought. Get her angrier by being rude.

"Ginevra, we need to talk."

Whenever she was angry she tended to forget how much Ginny hated her full name. Or maybe she just remembered it and wanted to get her angry.

"I find it difficult to talk to you with the threat of being slung over your knee floating around." Ginny called through the door. "So…I think I'll pass on this one."

"Ginny." Her voice was soft. It almost scared Ginny more than when her voice was stern. And she was calling her by the name she preferred. "I really, really want to talk to you. I promise I won't spank you, I won't yell, I won't punish you at all. All I want is for this to be cleared up."

"Not a trick?" Ginny called through.

"Not a trick."

"Got to be safe though." She said, taking her chances and getting as cheeky as possible in her chance to. Her mother never just wanted to talk. It always turned into something. But one thing Ginny knew is that her mother always kept her promises. "Don't come in until I tell you." Mrs. Weasley said she would wait. Ginny moved the dresser back as silently as possible, unlocked the door, grabbed her favorite pillow, hugged it tight to her, and sat on the bed, her back against the wall and her bottom safely protected on all sides. "Okay, come in."

Mrs. Weasley came in, saw her, and started to cry.

Ginny dropped the pillow and scooted forward on the bed. "W-what's wrong, Mum?"

Mrs. Weasley wiped a tear away. Ginny knew it was real; her mother was never one for the fake crying act guilt trip. "You-you're afraid of me!"

"Mum, I'm not afraid of you!" Ginny said quietly.

"Yes you are! I ruined it, Ginny, I'm sorry, I ruined everything."

"You didn't ruin anything. What are you talking about?"

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasley sniffed. "You remind me so much of myself it sometimes scares me. And the worst part of it is that I was just like my mother when I was young. I hated my mother. We had a horrible relationship." She sniffed again and walked over to the bed. "I don't…I never want us to be like me and my mother. I want us to be close. And I'm sorry that I'm ruining it."

"You're not ruining it, Mum. And I'm not afraid of _you._ I…sometimes, just when you get really angry or upset, I get scared. But you've been getting really good. No you have!" She said when Mrs. Weasley started crying more and shaking her head. "I know how much it's upsetting you that Percy still won't come back. I know how worried you must have gotten about Ron and Harry and Hermione and me. And I know how much you're worried about all of us now that You-Know-Who is for sure. And I can't tell you how proud I am that you've managed to not spank Ron and me on an hourly basis or because we groaned in protest."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head again. "That doesn't fix the past. I've always been a horrible mother."

Ginny started to form tears in her eyes. "No…no, Mummy, you're not. And I'm sorry. I put that in your head. You're not a horrible mother. You really are a fantastic mother. I was just upset, and scared. Sometimes it's good to be a little scared. If I hadn't been scared, we wouldn't be having this talk."

"You are like me!" Mrs. Weasley wailed.

"I fail to see how that's a bad thing." Ginny smiled. But she turned it into a frown quickly. "So…does this mean you won't spank me anymore?"

"Only if it's something horrible. I promise. And that's not too much, either. There weren't many times you really deserved a spanking." She frowned."But you were very rude to Bill about his engagement. You should be happy for him. He's your older brother."

"Barely. I remember the exact day I met him. I was five years old. _Five._"

"You met him before then."

"Either I was asleep or a few hours old, 'cause I don't remember a damn thing about Bill before that day." Ginny spat. "And how could he choose _Fleur_? She's disgusting. I hate her."

"That's a little overdramatic." Mrs. Weasley commented. "I don't care for her much, but I won't say I hate her. I just do not believe she is a fit for Bill."

"I can't believe he's marrying that creature."

"Ginny, you really are being rude. Maybe not as rude as you were in front of them. I doubt laughing, coughing 'Oh Merlin you're serious?' then turning ghost white and falling out of your chair is a proper way to say 'congratulations'. And if that weren't enough, you added every single comment that popped into your head."

"Bet Fleur didn't hear a word of it. She was probably marveling that I could speak. Have you heard her talk to me? You'd think I was just born." She mimicked the French accent combined with the baby-talk voice. "You must be Geeny. Bill 'as told me all about 'is leetle seester. But you are much cuter zan I ever expected. 'E spoke like you were so much older…and bigger."

"She did not actually say that to you." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Guess again. She _bent down_ to talk to me. You'd think I was a ruddy midget." Ginny spat.

"Molly!" Someone called from downstairs, Mr. Weasley without a doubt.

"I'm sorry, dear, I have to go. But I'm really glad we talked."

Ginny nodded mechanically. She had not only saved herself from one spanking, but probably dozens. But a few things bothered her. She was so much like her mother. Everyone told her that. But she had always promised herself she would not grow up to be like her mother. She would never even threaten to spank her kids. She would never even joke about it. And she still intended to keep that promise. But she wondered if her mother promised herself the same thing when she was little. She wondered if her mother vowed she would never become like her mother. That she would never spank her kids.

If that was true, what triggered her to spanking her kids? Would the same thing trigger Ginny to spank her kids?

Her train of thought was broken by a roaring, "GINEVRA WEASLEY!"

Oh god. Her mother was a second later in her bedroom. She closed the door and locked it tight. Ginny pushed herself against the wall and hugged the pillow again. What had she done? She had skipped two levels of anger: simmering and stewing. She had gone straight onto boiling. It needed to go quick if Ginny didn't want her mother boiling over.

"Yes, Mum?"

"You failed to tell me something. In fact, you failed to tell me about you failing something!" She yelled. Ginny's face dropped. "We just got your grades. Exactly what is this 'D' doing on there?"

"Representing my grade in History of Magic."

"I realize it's a boring class, but that is no excuse for outright failing the class!"

"I know, Mum, I wasn't concentrating. History of Magic was right before Potions, and I kept reviewing in my head for that exam."

"Well, that paid off. You have top grades in Potions. But focusing on another exam while taking one is stupid. It is one of your worst excuses yet."

"I'm sorry, Mum. I'll do better this year. This is my O.W.L. year, it's important. I won't even dream of failing."

"You won't dream of failing ever again."

That was the cue. Ginny jumped up and ran to the opposite wall that the bed was on, and Mrs. Weasley sat down on the bed and took her hairbrush out of her pocket. "If you come over now, I won't have to use this."

"You promised you wouldn't. Not unless I really deserved it."

"Ginevra, you do deserve this." Mrs. Weasley breathed. Ginny shut her eyes and pressed herself tighter against the wall.

"No. I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. Don't spank me. You promised. No. You promised." She kept repeating those sentences in random order. "Please, Mummy, please. I won't do it again. Never. I'll start studying now. I'll be silent for a week. I'll let you spank me if I fail next year. Twice as hard. Twice as much. Just don't spank me now, please, don't." Ginny begged, letting her back slide down the wall.

"This is not about the pleasure I get from doing this. I get no pleasure. This is about you learning your lesson."

"I have learned my lesson. I need to pay attention to the present. Focus on everything, not just what I think is important. Please, I know I was wrong. Don't spank me, please."

"Ginevra, whether we like it or not I have to."

"You promised!" Ginny wailed as she felt her mother take her ear and drag her over to the bed. "You promised, you promised, you promised!" She let out a big sob as she was lifted onto her mother's knee. "You always keep your promises! I can't trust you anymore."

Mrs. Weasley ignored this all and flipped up her skirt and yanked down her knickers. Ginny gasped.

"Mummy, no! Bare? It was just one grade! I said I wouldn't let it happen again! Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you. I do. I just want to make sure you have the full message. It's not about not letting it happen again. It's about letting it happen in the first place." She took her hairbrush and gave Ginny a good whack.

She cried out in pain, still not seeing what the point was. It was just one grade. All her other grades were 'O's, except for one 'E' in DADA, but that was because of Umbridge. Surely all that was not worth a bare spanking. Especially not one starting out with the hairbrush.

"I take your grades very seriously, Ginevra. You should too."

"Mummy, I do. Owww!" She cried out, knowing that her bottom was probably by now a jolly shade of red. What she feared occurred. The hairbrush, which had been paddling the areas where she would sit down on, was now moving to an even more painful spot: her thighs. It felt a thousand times more painful each time the hairbrush came down. She cried out, wrapping her fingers around her mother's leg and keeping her eyes shut to hold back tears.

Finally the hairbrush made its way back to her bottom. It burned and stung, but it was better than on her thighs. She cried straight for the next five minutes it lasted.

"Mu-mummy? Wh-why that l-long?" She sobbed after Mrs. Weasley carefully placed her knickers and let her skirt fall into place. She laid on her stomach on the bed, tears flowing out of her eyes.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was horrible!" She sobbed. "Why do you always have to do it so hard? I hate you. Leave me alone." She felt so embarrassed.

"Ginny—"

"Gotten back to calling me by my shortened name? Got tired of saying 'Ginevra'? D'you know why I hate my first name? Every time I hear 'Ginevra' I think of you angry at me. And whenever you're angry at me you spank me. That's why I hate my first name. Get out of my bedroom."

"Please, Ginny—"

"OUT!" She yelled, and Mrs. Weasley frowned and slammed the door behind her. For a moment she lingered by the door, hearing Ginny's deafening sobs.

Now she really had ruined it.


	2. Chapter 2

_a/n so I finally got around to writing this...and it's a little dull, but hopefully, it's just a little speed bump before I hit the freeway. _

* * *

"Ginny?" No response. There hadn't been a response all day. Or yesterday. She couldn't take it anymore. Ginny had to speak to her sometime. And she was getting impatient. 

She opened the door to find Ginny lying on her stomach on her bed, her head facing the wall. She was wearing what looked like a pair of Fred's old pajamas, with her hair tied in a ponytail.

"Ginny, dear?"

She turned her head, setting it face down on her pillow. Mrs. Weasley sat down on the edge of her bed, but Ginny didn't even budge. "Won't you please talk to me?" No response. "At least look at me." She didn't move an inch. "Ginny, I'm sorry, but I had to do it. It may not seem like it, but you deserved what you got." She reached out to stroke Ginny's back, but she moved away. "Fine." Mrs. Weasley sighed, standing up and heading toward the door. "I love you, Ginny."

Nothing.

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"She's still not coming out of there?" Ron sighed when his mother came down without Ginny.

"She won't even talk to me. She won't even look my way. Kept her face in the pillow the whole time."

"What did you do to her?" He asked. As much as he knew he would regret getting his mother angry, he did not like knowing that his sister was ever unhappy. And especially because of their _mother_. For the last two and a half days Ginny had only been talking to Fred and George. And they only visited once, but they came out of her bedroom about an hour after they entered and left without a word to Mrs. Weasley. That had to mean something.

"What makes you think I did something?"

"The twins wouldn't look at you when they left her bedroom! Whatever has Ginny locked in there has to do with you! Doesn't it?"

Mrs. Weasley hesitated, staring at her son and contemplating his sudden outburst of bravery. "Yes. It does. But I'm not going to tell you what happened. It isn't your business. It's between me and her, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"I don't think Ginny is on the same side as you." Ron shook his head. "If you won't tell me, and she never tells me anything, I'll just get it from Hermione when she comes." He walked upstairs, leaving Mrs. Weasley alone. She felt now like none of her children cared for her very much.

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"Seriously, one week?" Ron whispered to himself as he passed Ginny's bedroom. He heard a crash from inside, followed by some swearing, and decided to go by a little faster than originally anticipated. But before he could get all the way to the stairs, he heard her door slam open and stopped. As he slowly turned around, all he could see was her back heading toward the bathroom with a towel.

He waited until the door was closed to run downstairs. Quickly as possible, he slipped into a seat at the table.

"Morning, Ronniekins." A voice said. He looked around to see the twins standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Can't we visit our family every once in a while?" George said, sounding hurt. Then he shook his head and returned his voice to normal. "We're here to check out the Ginny situation. Has she left her bedroom lately?"

"I just saw her leave to take a shower. She's been coming in and out fine, she just won't come downstairs, speak to, or make eye contact with Mum. I have to bring her up her meals all the time." He lowered his voice. "Do you know what happened with them? Why is she so angry?"

Fred crossed his eyes and made a face. "Can't tell you that one mate. She was pretty angry, though. Doubt she's going to be talking to Mum for a long, long time." He looked around to make sure the coast was clear. "But you know how Ginny is. You can barely tell how angry she is for most of the conversation, sometimes all of it. But this was different. We knew how angry she is." He severely lowered his voice. George nodded, a grave look on his face. They both said the next sentence at the same time.

"She was crying."

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_Drown yourself. Just do it. What's the point?_ Ginny thought. But she knew she was just being overdramatic. It was a tendency of hers to do so. But one thing she did know is that she was very upset, upset and angry. She lingered in the shower, comforted by the cold water. It took away the pain. And it hid her tears.

She had been embarrassed crying in front of the twins. It seemed like they didn't know what to do because she had been crying. She got the feeling that if she had just held back her tears, they wouldn't have had the expression they had. But when she was succumbed to tears, it was hard for her to keep them in. And right then, she had needed to cry. Sometimes she just needed it. And that was one of those times.

She turned off the water and rested her head against the tile wall, the water dripping down her body, and tears dripping down her face. Her bottom was still red, and her thighs were still a dark pink. It hurt thinking about it. She dried off and put on another pair of Fred's old pajamas. They were pretty big on her, but she preferred it that way.

It seemed as though as soon as she got into her bedroom, there was a knock. To her pleasure, it was George's voice that called out. "Oi, Ginny, let us in."

She unlocked the door and let them past. He had a food-laden tray in his hands, and he gave it to her. She put it on the bed and took a piece of toast off it, offering the twins some. They shook their heads.

"Harry and Hermione will be here in a few days."

"Yippee. Tell them I said hi." She said dolefully. "And tell Hermione I'm sorry she won't be staying in my bedroom."

"Ginny—"

"Haven't I made it quite obvious I plan to be alone the rest of the summer? I hate this place. I'm so sick of everything here. I just want to leave forever. Never come back."

"Yeah, because Mum'll let you do that. She's ready to spank you again for staying in here for so long."

"Tell her to. Say she's welcome. It won't teach me a thing besides that I hate her. And I already know that."

"You don't hate her, Ginny. You're just angry." George said.

"You call this 'just angry'? George, you have no idea what I'm feeling right now! She promised me! She promised! And then she broke her promise because of one D! I got O's everywhere else, except DADA, but come on, with Umbridge there you're lucky to even pass." She shook her head, trying to blink back tears. "All the hard work I did and everything wasted by one D. Who even gives a shit about History of Magic? It's not like I'll be pursuing a career in it! Or anything that has to do with it!"

Another knock.

"Ginny?" It was her mother.

"GO AWAY!" She yelled, and the door somehow locked by itself.

"Ginny, I want to—"

"NO! I DON'T CARE! GO AWAY! NOW! I HATE YOU!" She yelled loud enough for the whole house to hear, which was almost positive they did.

"Damn it Ginny, talk to me!"

"I AM TALKING TO YOU! CAN'T YOU HEAR ME?!" The twins covered their ears and stood. They walked past Ginny's bed and slid out the door, but not quick enough to stop Ginny from hitting Mrs. Weasley in the face with a handful of scrambled eggs.

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"And you thought she was angry at you." Fred mumbled. Mrs. Weasley sniffed, brushing egg out of her hair.

"I think we're past angry. Be honest with me, brutally honest if you have to. How bad is it?"

The twins exchanged looks. "She said she's sick of it." Fred told her.

"And that she wants to leave." George added.

"And never come back." Fred ended.

"She really, really hates you right now."

"But all she said she wants besides to leave is just to be alone. All she wants is the summer in her bedroom."

Mrs. Weasley turned and headed toward her bedroom. Fred gave George a look, but he shrugged.

"She said brutally."

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"Ginny?" Hermione asked when she came in. "Are you okay?"

Ginny, deeply embarrassed to have Hermione see her like that, turned onto her stomach and nodded. She took deep breathes to stop crying.

"You don't look okay. What's wrong?" She touched her arm, and Ginny sniffed and turned over to face the wall.

"It doesn't matter. I shouldn't bother you with it. I'm probably just overreacting anyway." She felt Hermione's hand on her shoulder.

"Honestly Ginny, just tell me what's wrong. I can tell you've been crying, no matter how much you try to hide. And when you cry, it's serious. What is it?"

Ginny squirmed on her bed, but remained silent. She knew that if she told Hermione, she would just feel stupid. What she was doing was childish, she had figured that out long ago, but she also figured out that she had to stand up to her mother. She broke her promise, and she lied to her. Whenever Ginny did either of those, she got spanked. Since spanking her mother was near impossible, she was just going to be a cheeky little bitch. Hey, it had worked so far.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? C'mon, Ginny. From what I've heard, you haven't been downstairs in nearly two weeks, you screamed at your mother for trying to talk to you, and the only people you told what was happening were the twins, and even them you swore to secrecy. Whatever is actually going on, it's not nothing." Hermione groaned as Ginny squirmed again. She took her hand. "Come on, sit up."

Ginny crawled away very quickly to the other end of the bed. "I can't."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, trying to hide her shocked expression at finally seeing her face. She was a mess.

"Because my mother's a liar. She promised that she would never spank me again unless I did something to really deserve it. Then five minutes later she comes up and spanks me for getting a D in History of Magic, even though all my other grades were O's, except for _one_ E."

"And you haven't spoken to your mother since? You haven't even been downstairs?"

"Nope." She sighed.

"And so you can't sit up because it will hurt?" Ginny nodded. "Well—a D is a pretty bad—"

"I can't believe you Hermione!" Ginny yelled. "You're actually taking her side, aren't you?! I hate you, I hate both of you."

"I'm not taking her side. But I do think you're overreacting a bit."

"I know, but it's about time my mother realized that she's in the wrong. She says she doesn't want to ruin our relationship. And that she doesn't want me to be afraid of her. She's failed at that, I'll say it to her face." Ginny mumbled, pushing her hair behind her ear. She let herself fall, landing almost painlessly on her side. Hermione smiled.

"C'mon. Get dressed."

"Why?"

"I'm making it my mission to get you out of this bedroom. You can't stay locked up the rest of the summer."

"Yes I can. Besides. _She's_ coming over to stay tonight. I think I'll kill myself if I have to deal with her again."

"Surprise!" Hermione clapped. "You must have lost track of your days. She came last night. In fact, she's here right now. And will be staying the rest of the summer. God, I hate her!"

"Now you are speaking my language." Ginny mumbled. She tilted her head to look up at Hermione. "Tell me the truth. You aren't up here because you decided to be, are you? Ron put you up to this? Or Bill? Be honest with me, I'm already avoiding one person, two won't be so difficult."

"Ron did ask me to get him information." Hermione admitted. "But I will not give it to him unless you want him to know. Before you reach a decision, he is already against your mother, and he doesn't even know what she did."

"Go ahead and tell him. I don't care. Just make sure Bill and Fleur are completely in the dark. Tell them I'm up here because Mum gave me a bad haircut if you want to, I don't care. Just don't tell them the truth."

"Consider it done." Hermione nodded. "I'll leave you be."

"Flip Fleur off for me."

"I won't be doing that."

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"She isn't coming out, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione said quietly. "You are probably her least favorite person in the world right now. Well…you might second to Fleur…"

Mrs. Weasley groaned. "She really needs to get used to Fleur. I mean, Bill _loves _her." She seemed a bit disgusted at the whole idea of it. "If it all turns out like they've planned, Ginny and Fleur will be sister-in-laws."

Hermione shuddered. "Ginny told me she's been waiting ages for one of her brothers to get married, just to have another girl in the house. Though I don't think Fleur is her idealistic in-law."

"Neither do I."

Hermione sighed. Almost in a whisper, she said, "She wanted me to tell Ron the truth. She said I could tell Harry, everyone, just not Bill or Fleur."

"Why not them?"

Hermione shrugged. "With all due respect, it's Ginny." She exhaled loudly. "Did—how—"

"I don't know why she's overreacting like this. This isn't anything new to her."

"Mrs. Weasley, you did promise her."

"Hermi—" She began, but Fleur came into the room, beaming.

"Oh, 'ello, Mrs. Weasley. 'Ello, 'Ermione."

"Good morning, Fleur." Hermione said. Mrs. Weasley smiled, but Hermione, who was very familiar with her, knew it wasn't real.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked Fleur as Bill came down.

"Perhaps I would 'ave slept better eef I were wiz Bill." She beamed, kissing him as he sat down. Bill chuckled.

"Not in a million years." Bill said. Very quietly, to Fleur, he said, "Lighten up on that, my mum does not like that I'm getting married."

"Hey, if I can hear you, do you think your mother can?" Hermione asked them in the same volume. Bill rolled his eyes, but snuck a look at his mother anyway. She was humming softly to herself. Definitely hadn't heard it.

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_Pop. Pop. Pop. _

So bored. She couldn't remember the last time she was this bored. But she also couldn't remember the last time she was this angry.

_Pop. Pop. Pop._

"Having fun?"

"That depends. Do you come bearing news?"

"She's ready to kill you. But far from apologizing. Before you do something like this, you should remember what you learned in science class. Where the hell do you think you got this stubbornness?" Hermione dropped the tray next to Ginny, who caught the rubber ball she was bouncing against the wall and juggled it from hand to hand.

"I hoped it was recessive." She chucked the ball hard against the opposite wall, and it ricocheted between thrice before falling back to the ground in front of the original wall.

"Yeah right." She scoffed. "Look, she wants to fix it, she does. But she's afraid you won't let her."

Ginny laughed. "In your dreams. She didn't even come close to saying that. I'll bet she commented on how this was nothing new to me, and how she didn't know why I was acting like this. She's playing the dumb card. Acting like I'm the one that's wrong. She doesn't even realize that she promised."

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, it was something along those lines."

"It's not just stubbornness I get from her. I know exactly what she thinks. I know exactly how to sharpen her knife."

"I don't want to know what that means."

"Means it's time for Plan B."

Hermione hit her head against the wall. "Every summer I come here expecting it to be normal. And now here's the goddamn Plan B." She mumbled to herself.

* * *

_a/n tune in next time for Plan B. But with that damn writer's strike,we don't know how long it'll take.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_a/n__ I still don't own these fuckers. I'm just borrowing them so I can pretend that I'm happy._

"I hate Plan B." Hermione said immediately. "She'll slaughter you. Seriously. You think she spanked you badly this time—you won't even recognize your ass by the time she's done with it if you go through with this."

"C'mon, Hermione. I bet she won't even notice until you tell her."

"She'll kill you. Ginny, can't you hear me?! And I am not going to pay for the funeral charges either. You can't go through with this."

"I can and I will. As soon as Harry gets here. You'll all be paying attention to him. It's perfect."

"No, it's perfect in theory! It's filled with flaws if you look at it when it's in action."

"I've gone over every possible way it could go wrong and have found a way to prevent each one. Hermione, I've been plotting Plan B since I locked myself in here. You think I would leave a hole?"

"Yes!"

"Well I didn't!"

"Okay, how about when it ends? What about when they find out what you did? What are you gonna do then?"

"That is a part you do not need to know about. That part will strictly be between me and my mother. So, are you going to tell anyone about Plan B?"

"No, why would I?"

"Hermione! Don't tell anyone! I thought I made that clear?"

"Ginny, I won't let you do this."

"I don't care if you bar my window, I will find a way. You are not about to stop me."

"This, Ginny, is what I like to call overreacting. You've been trapped in here for too long. You've been breathing in carbon monoxide. I don't know, but whatever it is has caused hysteria! This is seriously mad, and I'm sure the consequences will be just as severe as the stimulus."

"Hermione, this isn't hysteria. It might be overreacting, but I'm just trying to teach my mother a lesson. She punishes me all the time when I do something wrong, but every time she does something wrong, we're supposed to just look past it when she gives us her little 'everyone makes mistakes' guilt trip. I'm just trying to show her that phrase goes both ways. She makes mistakes, well I make mistakes too."

"And you're about to make the biggest one of your life."

"The biggest mistake of my life is thinking that I could ever trust my mother."

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"Hey, Ginny, Harry's here if you want to say—"

"Go swallow a cactus, Ron, I'm not interested." She snapped, and Ron disappeared immediately, closing the door. Ginny took her knapsack out of the wardrobe, dashed over to the window, and slid through onto the rain gutter. She shimmied down, careful not to draw attention.

After years of having to spend time by herself after being teased away from her brothers, she knew the geography of the area better than any other Weasley. She ran up the dirt road and up the hill into the little cave at the foot of the mountain. There, she taped her watch to the cave wall and sat back, looking at the sky. It was ten in the morning right now. In sixteen hours, she would enter the Burrow, completely calm and unharmed.

She took off her knapsack and flipped open the lid. Inside was some food she managed to save, several books, a sketch book, a pencil, and her trusty rubber ball. She started with a book, and soon, after the first three pages, she completely forgot about the watch on the wall of the cave.

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Hermione sighed and walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Thankfully, only Mrs. Weasley and Ron were in there. The two people who already knew. She reluctantly walked up to them, able to turn her nervousness of going out with the plan into a look of concern.

"Mrs. Weasley? Ginny's not down here, is she?"

"No." Mrs. Weasley said like it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "Why would she be downstairs?"

"Because…she's not in her bedroom, and she's nowhere else in the house."

Ron stood, knocking over his chair and the chair next to him. "What? Are you sure?"

"I've triple checked everywhere. Unless she's very good at hide-and-seek I bet you can count she's not in the house." Hermione said. Mrs. Weasley put her hand over her eyes and let out a long sigh.

"She's gone? Just like that? Did she take any of her things?"

"Yes. Some clothes and some books and the food she had stored in the wardrobe." Hermione said quietly. Ron slammed his hands on the table and looked at his mother.

"This is all your fault, Mum. It's been nearly three weeks and you've been so damn stubborn you couldn't even talk to her. Now she's gone. What the hell are you gonna do about it?"

"Me?" Mrs. Weasley roared, standing up. "I didn't see you standing up being the ideal brother! You could barely even say her name for the last three weeks! You've been scared to death by the very thought of her!"

Ron glared at her, not even budging when she glared back. "She was crying, Mum. She was crying. In front of _Fred and George_. You really messed up this time, and it was not my job to fix it. It was yours, and you know it. Look how well you handled it. She's run away."

To add dramatic effect, Hermione thought. Ginny had not told Ron to add dramatic effect.

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"Great job, Mum!" Fred yelled when he entered the Burrow.

"Why is everyone blaming me?"

"Because it's your fault, how about that?" George roared. "We warned you, didn't we? We warned you that she said she wanted to leave and never come back. But you didn't care. You didn't fix it even when there was threat of her being gone. And now she is."

"This is not my fault!"

"You had the chance to fix it!" Fred yelled. "You had plenty of chances, and how many did you take? She's gone, Mum, and this is Ginny! She could have gone to Jupiter for all we freaking know! And she wouldn't have told a soul she was!" He turned and walked out the door. "I'm going looking for her."

"Yeah, me too."

"Ron, Harry, and Hermione are already out there." Mrs. Weasley said.

"You think we care?" George said before closing the door.

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"There's a cave up there that she used to always go to when she needed to think." Ron said, pointing up to a cave in the wall of a mountain on top a small hill.

"I'll go up there. You two keep going." Hermione said. She smiled reassuringly and started her short trek up the hill. Making sure they weren't looking back, she entered the cave, where she knew Ginny was.

"Sent out a search party, did they?" Ginny's voice called when Hermione stepped into the cave, her footsteps echoing off the rock walls, along with occasionally popping sounds, which told Hermione that Ginny was playing with that annoying rubber ball she carried everywhere with her since she found it outside on the lawn of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place at the exact moment her mother rushed out to tell her that her father was going to be okay. "I'm glad. How long's it been?"

Hermione, now seeing Ginny, realized she was not only bouncing the ball against the cave wall, but reading a book while doing so."Six hours. They're going to give up when the sun starts to set, Ron says it's impossible to see three feet in this place when the moon's out." Hermione said. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a flashlight. "You know how to work one of these, right?"

"Yeah, thanks." She said, putting it in her knapsack. "So it's just you and Ron?"

"And Harry, and the twins, and Bill, and your father." She said. "Your mother is waiting at the house expecting you to come home any second, and trying to convince people it's not her fault. Fleur…I wonder if she even knows you're gone."

"If she does, I don't want her to find me. In fact, tell her that you found me over by the lake and that if she brought me back, everyone would stop teasing her about marrying Bill and they would all like her."

"Why the lake?"

"There are so many trees around there she won't be able to tell north from her ass."

"I don't understand that comparison, nor do I wish to." She said. "I better get back to Harry and Ron before it seems weird I've been gone so long. See you at your funeral."

_Pop._

She caught the ball one last time and thought back to that dreadful day. The day she thought her father was going to die. She loved her father. Every time she looked at the ball, she thought about how happy she was when he came out alive, and how much she loved him. How she never wanted to leave him. She wondered something as she stared at the baseball-sized rubber ball, and this thought had never occurred to her before in her sixteen years.

What would it be like if her mother was in a situation like that? Where she could very possibly die? What…what would Ginny feel? Sadness, like she had with her father? Worry, like she felt with her father? Anger, like she had with her father? She realized she didn't know what she would feel. But even before the accident, she thought about what would happen if anything ever happened to her father, and what she would feel. The answer had proved correct. However she never thought about what would happen if her mother got hurt.

She realized then that her relationship with her father was not the same as her relationship with her mother. Her father: she loved her father. She loved him a lot. But her mother…sometimes she didn't know. Maybe it was because of what their relationship was like. Perhaps if her father was the disciplinarian, she would feel differently.

But perhaps not.

Her father was never quite like her mother. Her father was always calm, collected. He always had a high tolerance for things, and a very high level of patience. He never got really angry. Her mother was always angry. Her mother always snapped quickly. She had a low tolerance. She had little patience.

_Pop_.

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"No luck. Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, we couldn't find her anywhere." Harry said. The sun was well past set, and they had just come back to find Bill, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley arguing with Mrs. Weasley.

She held up a finger. "This is not my fault. I don't care what you do to pin it on me, this is not my fault." She moved a chair directly in front of the door and sat. "And I am not moving from this spot until she walks through that door."

They all mumbled things no one heard and disassembled, but Harry stayed behind.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Any minute now, Harry."

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Two o clock. Time to start heading down to the house. She turned on the flashlight and put her knapsack over her shoulder. It only took her ten minutes until she was back at the door of her house. She noticed the light was on. Someone was still awake. Someone was waiting for her.

She opened the door.

"Oh thank god." A voice said, and Ginny found herself being hugged. "Ginny, what have I done to you to make you want to run away?"

"W—what?"

Mrs. Weasley let go and paced the room. "Now I must have done something. You've locked yourself in your bedroom, you won't talk to me about it, and now you've run away. I'm sorry, Ginny, really, I'm sorry. What have I done to make you want to do all this?"

"What have you done?" She scoffed. "That's your question? Mum, you broke your promise! You lied to me! You've lied to me for a long time, and you've broken many promises. But every time you give me that stupid little 'everyone makes mistakes' guilt trip. I'm sick of it. Really, I hate it. If everyone makes mistakes, why do you accept only perfection from everything I do?"

"I don't accept only—"

"Did you even look at any of my other grades? I got top grades in every single class. And then with Bill and Fleur. You expected me to be a perfect little angel. Mum, that's my oldest brother. He's getting married to her. I don't hate her because they're getting married. I hate her because she's an airhead. I hate her because she talks to me like I'm two feet off the ground and three years out of your uterus. And you know from previous situations that I handle things differently than most people. But you still could not accept the fact that I do not want my brother married to that woman." She had tears forming in her eyes. "You expected me just to sit there and tell them 'congratulations' just like any good sister would do. But here's the truth, Mum. I'm not. I'm not a good sister, I'm not a normal sister at that." She shrugged. "I'm different. And…I always hoped you would realize I'm different someday."

"Ginny, I—"

"Fifteen years, Mum." She said. "Fifteen years and you still only accept perfection from a person who you damn well know is not perfect. I'll never be what you want me to be, and that's evident. Just learn to face it." She started to walk upstairs, but stopped at the doorway. "And by the way, none of us are perfect. Bill's marrying someone who you obviously don't like. Charlie's still in Romania. Percy ran, and I don't think he'll be coming back. Fred and George opened a joke shop. Ron's a git."

"Ginny, please, just give me a second. I really don't want to start another fight, and I don't want you to be angry with me—"

"Well it's too late for that, isn't it?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Is Ginny awake yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked Hermione when she walked into the kitchen. Hermione shrugged.

"She's been going in and out of sleep for hours now. The last time I checked, she was asleep. But it may have changed if you want to check." She said. Mrs. Weasley sighed. "You two fought last night when she came home, then?" She asked, pouring a cup of coffee and adding milk and sugar.

"Yeah, we did. And I feel really bad about it."

"I'll bet that's what she was aiming for." She took a sip of coffee and walked outside. Mrs. Weasley watched her.

"Maybe that was what she was aiming for." She muttered to herself.

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_Come_ _on_, Ginny thought. How long did it take for someone to feel sorry enough to come and talk to their daughter? She seemed so eager to speak last night. Maybe Ginny should have let her speak. But to be honest, everything Ginny had said the night before was not planned. She just released all the thoughts she had bottled up inside her from an early age. And that was a lot.

Someone knocked at her door. "Can I come in?" Mrs. Weasley's voice asked.

"If you have to." She grumbled. Mrs. Weasley closed the door, and Ginny backed up slightly.

She sighed. "Ginny, you know I'm not going to do anything."

"I'm sorry, did you say I _know_ that? How do I _know_ that? You lied last time, how do I know you're not lying this time?" She refused to look at her. "And if you tell me just to trust you, you've gotta trust me that I've got a rant on hold for that. Just in case you want to hear it, which, I'm telling you now, you won't."

"Oh, believe me, Ginny, I know how many rants you can hold in that brain of yours."

"Ooh, my tiny little brain that got a D on one test?" Ginny gasped. "Perhaps I should erase some of those rants and replace them with…well, you know…_information_." She shuddered. Still, she was not looking at her mother.

"Look, Ginny, I really don't want us to fight. When I was your age-"

Ginny groaned. "Let me guess: 'my mother and I fought constantly.' That's what you were planning on saying? And then you'd say something about how you don't want us to be like you two. About how much I remind you of yourself." She shook her head. "I've heard it a thousand times, Mother, I don't need to hear it again." She stood up, finally facing her mother. "When you were my age, were you like your mother? Did you promise yourself you would never use any corporal punishment on your children? Because that's what I've been doing since I was nine years old."

"In fact I did promise myself that."

"But here we are." Ginny twirled around, her wave of orange hair following her on a second's delay.

"Yes we are." Mrs. Weasley said. "And I'd like to wish you something. I wish that when you do spank your children- because you will- that they react the same way you are."

"I will never spank my children. My children will never be injured as a punishment, not as long as I exist as a living, breathing entity." She said, spinning back around. Mrs. Weasley smiled devilishly.

"Let's see how long that sticks as soon as your son or daughter breaks his or her first lamp. Or draw their first pictures all over the wall. Or uses your favorite book as a paint canvas."

"That's what kids do, Mother. How can you not understand that?" She sighed. "Know what? Let's say that I do end up spanking one of my kids. I hope they react this way too. Maybe then I wouldn't be as stupid as you! Maybe then I would be able to fix it quicker instead of acting like an idiot!"

"I'm the idiot? I'm the one that didn't try to fix it? You threw egg in my face when I said I wanted to talk."

"No, you did not say you wanted to talk. You ordered me to talk. There is a difference. I realize that. You seem to have trouble. You're under the impression that if you're scary enough, then anyone will do anything you want. It doesn't work like that on me, Mother. You're not the only one who works with fear. My observant side has been watching for years as you scared your sons into doing whatever you wanted, and I thought that would work. But I realize that I don't want to be you. I don't want to use fear."

"Your observant side realized this?" Ginny nodded. "When did your observant side meet up with your aggressive side?"

"When you went against your word." She said flatly, walking out of the room.

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"What'd you do to your mother?" Hermione asked Ginny as she walked into the bedroom. Ginny closed her book and Hermione sat on her camp bed. "She just yelled at your father because he was smiling."

"Excellent, I've broken her down."

"Ah, so Plan B is a three-point plan?"

"Point One: run away. Point Two: get my mother angry. Point Three: speaks for itself."

"You haven't come up with Point Three yet, have you?"

"Yes, I actually have. Point Three is to let it play out nicely."

Hermione started laughing so hard she almost fell off the camp bed. "Nicely? When is the last time you and your mother communicated nicely?"

Ginny stood abruptly. "What am I supposed to do then, Hermione? My mother is an idiot! She doesn't understand what I'm trying to tell her!"

"What are you trying to tell her?" Hermione asked quietly. Ginny let out a loud whimper and ran out of the room. "That's an odd message."

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"Ginny's a wreck, you know." Hermione said when she entered the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley sighed. "She said she's not hungry, so don't even try."

"What's going on with her?"

Hermione softened her voice. "Mrs. Weasley, this isn't about that you spanked her. You broke your promise to her. She can't trust you anymore. And I think it's scaring her."

"Well that makes two of us."

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"Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley felt it odd that she had been here so many times. In front of her daughter's door.

"Come in." Ginny mumbled. Mrs. Weasley walked in and sat on the bed next to her, smiling.

"You're not afraid."

"Nope. I'm pretty damn angry, though."

"Ginny, please watch your language."

"Yeah, I'll be doing that." She said, chucking her rubber ball at the opposite wall and catching it as it came back. "What do you want?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Ginny, I'm really sorry. I broke my word, and I should have tried to talk to you rather than just flat out spanking you. I'm sorry, I'll try my absolute hardest to do that next time."

"Next time?" Ginny croaked. "You're not going to try. I know you won't. Your hardest won't be good enough. I don't accept your apology."

"Ginny-"

"No." She sighed. "No. I'm not going to let you try to explain yourself. No. I'm not forgiving you. What you did is unforgivable."

"Ginny, doesn't it count that I'm trying to fix it?"

"NO!" Ginny yelled. Mrs. Weasley glared at her.

"You've been worrying the hell out of me, do you know that?"

"Mother, please watch your language."

"Ginevra, you have gotten on my last nerve!"

Ginny laughed. "Bet you could count all the nerves you have on your hand."

"Ginevra Weasley, I mean it! You locked yourself in here, and wouldn't talk to anyone. I had to hear from Fred and George that you were crying! And then you ran away! You have absolutely no idea how scared I was when it took so long for you to get home!"

"Soon we'll be using my middle name."

"That's it. I can't take this. Get over here, Ginevra. Now."

Ginny stared at her, open-mouthed. "No."

"Ginevra, I mean it! Now!"

"No, you can't do this!"

"Yes I can! If you are trying to tell me that you don't deserve this you're wrong. You've worried me half to death for almost no reason at all!"

"But it was only _half_ to death! It's not like I worried you into a grave or anything!"

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, if you do not get over here right now, I swear you will be spanked worse than you have ever imagined." Mrs. Weasley locked the door with a flick of her wand. Ginny, face pale, walked over to her mother. She was pulled onto her lap and felt her skirt being flipped up, then her knickers being pulled down. Daring to look, she saw that her mother had a hairbrush.

Ginny cried all throughout the almost ten minute spanking she received, but desperately tried not to be loud. The house was full of people. When Mrs. Weasley finished, she helped Ginny stand up, replacing her knickers and skirt. She noticed Ginny was crying and started crying herself.

She sat there, waiting for her daughter to react. Already she regretted doing what she did, and hated herself for hurting Ginny again. She gulped. "Well?"


	5. Chapter 5

Ginny burst into tears and buried her head in her mother's shoulder. Her shoulders shaking, tears flooding down her pale face, she let out a loud sob. Mrs. Weasley put her arms around her daughter, who sniffed and wiped a tear away, raising her head slightly before sitting on Mrs. Weasley's lap and burying her face back into her shoulder.

"Mummy, I'm sorry. I'll never do it again."

"Ginny, what are you talking about?"

"I love you, Mummy, I don't want to upset you. I'm sorry." She wailed. "Please don't be mad at me. I was upset, I didn't know what to do. Mummy, I'm sorry."

Mrs. Weasley started crying harder. "Ginny, it's my fault. I'm sorry, please, don't be angry with yourself. Don't be sorry." She hugged her. "I really love you, Ginny, I love you so much."

"Mummy, I'm sorry." She sobbed, hugging her mother back. They sat like that for a long while, crying.

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said after a while, "Ginny, I'm so sorry. I don't even know why I just spanked you. I wish I could take it back."

"It's okay, Mummy, I deserved it." Ginny sniffed, wiping a tear off her face. "This time I did. I ran away. I disobeyed you. And I was rude. Those things deserve spankings."

"Plural?" Mrs. Weasley said, astonished. Ginny shook her head quickly, embracing her mother again.

"No. No no no." She begged. Mrs. Weasley chuckled.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Ginny." She patted her back. "So you really love me?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"I'm glad. I missed you so much. If I try to talk to you more instead of spanking you all the time, will you let me talk to you, and further, will you tell me what's bothering you?"

"As long as you keep your word." Ginny mumbled, sounding a bit hurt.

"I'm so sorry about that, Ginny."

"So am I."

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Ginny made her first appearance downstairs at dinner that evening. Ron stared at her like he had never seen her before, but a glare- a very Mrs. Weasleyish glare that sent a shiver through his spine- from her made him turn away. Hermione nodded at her proudly. Fred and George, however, directed their thanks to Mrs. Weasley. They beamed at their mother and welcomed their sister to the seat to the right of George, and Ginny, that night, was perhaps happier than she had ever been.

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Now I'd like to stop the story there. I'd like to tell you that it was a happy ending. But it is never that easy. Because Ginny stayed stubborn and smart-mouthed, and Mrs. Weasley stayed strict and short-tempered. Two temperaments like theirs did not mix, especially when no one was brave enough to step in between those two. Tempers flared and sparks flew and fights broke out. Details are not necessary, but that was not the end. It is never truly the end.

Three years later, at the age of eighteen, Ginny Weasley married Harry Potter in a small ceremony. Mrs. Weasley could not have been happier for her daughter. As much as they fought, she had kept her word, and she had not spanked Ginny since that fateful day three years before. They were still close, no matter how much they wanted to strangle each other on occasion.

Two years after the wedding, when Ginny was twenty years old, Mrs. Molly Weasley died. Stress, age; you could blame it on anything you want. Her heart just gave up. It stopped beating one day while she was taking a nap. And as fate would bring it, Ginny was the first to find her mother dead. Nobody took it very well, especially considering they had buried Fred only three years before and we still not prepared for another funeral, but Ginny took it worse than anyone in the whole family, Weasleys and Prewetts alike.

Three years after Mrs. Weasley's death, Ginny gave birth to her first child, a girl, who looked just like Ginny, with the same hair and eyes. But all Ginny could think of, staring down at the baby girl, was how much she looked like her grandmother. Due to this resemblance, and with Harry's consent, the child was so rightfully named Molly Lily Potter, a bit of each grandmother.

And as Molly grew up, Ginny loved and cared for her like her mother had with her. But there was one difference between it: no matter how angry Ginny got, no matter how badly Molly messed up, Ginny never spanked Molly. But along with Harry's childhood at the Dursleys', Molly lived a very cushioned life. The most punishment she ever got was not being able to leave the house for two weeks. It was winter, anyway, and Molly had never been one to play in the snow.

And just like Mrs. Weasley had been like her mother, just like Ginny had been like Mrs. Weasley, Molly was like Ginny, from the appearance to the personality to the smart-mouth. Just like Ginny, Molly loved her mother. But she grew up knowing no love from her grandmother, knowing not who Molly Prewett-Weasley had been. Most importantly, she knew not what it felt like to be spanked or lied to.

_a/n such a fluff ending for me. Eh. I didn't care for writing it too much.__ Yeah, well, that's the end of Why Ginevra Can't Stand Her First Name.__ Hope ya enjoyed. And if you didn't…fuck you._


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